


The Fundamental Constant of Stories

by CenozoicSynapsid



Category: The Cyberiad - Stanislaw Lem
Genre: Bad Jokes, Gen, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CenozoicSynapsid/pseuds/CenozoicSynapsid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Trurl the Magnificent builds a device to meddle with things that probably ought to be left alone, and invites his friend Klapaucius to test it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fundamental Constant of Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [molybdomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/molybdomantic/gifts).



How Trurl began to experiment with altering the Fundamental Constants is too complicated a tale to recount here. Suffice it to say that he began with a device for turning down the gravity outside his front door, as a discouragement to unwelcome visitors. With a little thought, the generalization is obvious.

One day he invited his friend Klapaucius to examine his latest invention.

"This machine goes beyond all the previous ones," he proclaimed. "While they meddled only with brute physicalities, this one alters the Fundamental Constant of Stories!" 

Klapaucius snorted. "What does that even mean? This is just a plain box with a dial."

"Well, try telling a joke..."

"Very well." Klapaucius thought for a moment. "Three researchers went to woo a handsome young heir: one studied databases, one optimization and one randomized algorithms. Said the first: I will never forget a word you say to me. Said the second: I will care for you as best I can. Said the third: it is exceedingly probable that I am as good as both of them, and if by some chance I'm not, you can just keep marrying me until it works out!"

"Three researchers," said Trurl. "And note the position of the dial." Klapaucius looked down, and indeed, that was where it pointed.

"Mere coincidence," said Klapaucius. "There are plenty of stories with threes in them, but that doesn't prove it's a fundamental constant. Try setting it to a fraction."

"The dial is only numbered at integers," Trurl complained. "We won't even know what number it's on."

But nevertheless, he set it between zero and one, and the machine made a slight, momentary buzzing noise.

"Go ahead then," he said.

"How much semanticist does it take to tell a mass noun from a count noun? A scoop should do it, if you have the right kind."  
Klapaucius frowned. "Perhaps it is working."

"Why did you ever doubt it? After all, the machine is an invention of mine..."

Klapaucius groaned a little at this immodesty. "One more test," he said. "Set it to fifty this time."

Trurl turned the dial. But the machine smoked, whirred, flickered, buzzed and sparked. It then heated red-hot, bounced up and down a few times, rocked from side to side, emitted a loud banging sound and finished up by falling with an ugly clunk from the table.

"What was that, then?" asked Klapaucius, trying to sound innocent.  
"That? Oh, that's nothing," said Trurl.  
"In that case, I'd hate to see it really break down."  
"Just a few minor repairs..."  
"Will you need help? I hope it's not too difficult."

Trurl glared, grimaced, snatched up his tools, wrenched open the case and began furiously yanking at the contents. Sure enough, a critical circuit had shorted; a fuse had melted; a capacitor had exploded; a resistor was on fire, and to top it all off, the battery was dead. Trurl quickly wired the thing full of cadmium, tungsten, copper, gold and silicon. He soldered, sawed, tweezed, poked and rewired. After about five minutes, he flipped the switch back and forth, then back and forth again, then back to its original position.

"There we go," he said, clapping the dust from his hands.  
"Are you sure it'll work now? You practically rebuilt the whole thing from scratch."  
Klapaucius assumed an expression of guileless concern.  
"Well, test it again," said Trurl.  
Klapaucius hesitated.

"There were... let me see... fifty mathematicians going to a dance. The first of them was a topologist..."

He shook his head. "This is ridiculous. Fine, fine, I admit your machine works. But there is something strange about that sequence of malfunctions and repairs. What did you say this constant applied to, again?"

"Stories," said Trurl. "Also legends, jokes, folktales, myths and anecdotes of all kinds."

Klapaucius looked sidelong at the machine, for it had led him to a distressing conclusion about the nature of his universe."Set it to a nice safe number, like seven, and then leave it alone. I could deal with going on a few journeys, but I shouldn't like to take too many."

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really Lem's style of humor, but here it is anyway.


End file.
